Epsilon-7, the pinnacle of human engineering, was a marvel among cyborgs. His synthetic mind could calculate trillions of variables, and his mechanical hands could forge alloys with molecular precision. Once revered as humanity's greatest innovator, his intelligence brought miracles and threats alike. Nations warred for his allegiance, but no one could own him—not even death itself.
In the final moments of a catastrophic experiment, an explosion obliterated his lab. As his systems shut down, Epsilon-7 calculated a 0.00001% chance of survival. He was prepared to accept the void.
Instead, he awoke.
The sky above was a roiling crimson, pierced by black lightning. The ground beneath him was jagged obsidian, scorched by unrelenting heat. Around him stretched an endless wasteland of molten rivers and spires of dark rock. Hell, as humans described it, seemed an apt name for this place.